


All Used Up

by dedougal



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-18
Updated: 2012-01-18
Packaged: 2017-10-29 18:26:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/322811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedougal/pseuds/dedougal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A man walks in and out of a bar. Who knows who he'll meet? 50s AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Used Up

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a pinch hit for loverstar in the Suits Xmas exchange.

Mike watched the new guy at the bar. He looked down at his drink when the man's eyes seemed to sense the attention and tried desperately not to look up, to meet the stranger's eyes, to show interest. Mike wasn't supposed to be here, not tonight. Trevor had plans, clients and Mike was needed for his role of enticement and distraction. But Mike didn't want to be there, sitting in Trevor's lap, displayed like some kind of fancy doll. He had stopped, come to the bar and nursed his whiskey, hidden by the fug of smoke and the soft tinkle of the piano.

It was early, still, much earlier than Mike would usually be here. And usually he wouldn't be alone, of course. He'd have his hand on the thigh of an older guy just in town for the weekend. Or Trevor would demand obedience, expecting Mike to act like his lapdog almost, ferrying drinks to and fro despite the waitresses, bestowing pouts, kisses and an ass that was available for groping.

Mike watched the guy at the bar. Sure, he liked to get off. And he did, frequently. But there was something new in the warm pulse of heat that marked arousal for him. Mike was smart enough – despite the booze, the sex and the weed – to recognise that he liked the way this guy looked, for once. Mike let his eyes sweep up the man's legs, taking in the perfectly tailored suit. It wasn't like Mike didn't see people dressed like that every day, but there was something in the way the man held himself, like it wasn't a piece of clothing but a piece of him. He was so comfortable, leaning there, sipping at the glass in his hand, not a hair out of place.

The clock chimed, discordant with the piano notes. Mike glanced at it, annoyed. He should be on his way. Instead he finished off the drink and rose, steadily making his way to the bar. It was no coincidence that he shouldered his way in next to the stranger. A nod of the head was all that it took for another glass to be slid along the bar, a notation made on one of the numerous lists under the desk. Mike could feel the stranger's eyes as he posed, cocking his hip to display himself, placing his elbows on the bar and turning to face the room.

The silence was taut. Mike knew he didn't really have long before the man either snapped or left, or before Trevor stormed in here looking for him. He let his eyes finally meet the stranger's, drinking in his face, his lips, his smirk. He knew the game Mike was playing.

"Got a light?" The man tapped a cigarette out of a pack. He looked expectantly at Mike, who ended up fumbling for his own lighter. The man's hazel eyes were serious, focused. He knew who Mike was. Mike lit his cigarette regardless. The man caught Mike's wrist to hold it steady and light the stick, drawing in a deep breath. Every movement had Mike's full attention.

After he was released, Mike sunk the rest of his drink, tossed a bill in the direction of the barman and headed for the exit. He had to leave now, get away from this stranger's knowing eyes, from the way he exhaled a plume of smoke, sending it straight towards Mike with pursed lips better suited to another purpose. Get away from those smooth hands that had burned a brand on his arm. Mike turned up the alley that would take him across to the nearest subway. He should get home.

A warm hand landing on his shoulder stopped him. He was out of sight of the street, hidden under the overhang from the building above. Bare brick seemed to surround him. The caress of a hot, wet mouth at the back of his neck startled him.

"Mike Ross?" Mike knew it was the stranger from the bar. "My employers are interested in having a conversation with you."

Mike didn't turn, didn't move. He searched for an escape, eyes darting frantically from side to side. "And what do they want?"

The man backed off a little, letting Mike have some room. He kept his back to the man. "They want to get to know you a little better, I'd guess. I'm just their attorney. What do I know?"

"You're a lawyer?" Mike seemed to focus on that most of all. It was unusual for him to run into those. Judges, sure. The odd cop too. But not lawyers, not really. He remembered his mother's long ago wish that Mike would one day go to college, become a lawyer. That was another life though.

"Harvey Specter." Over his shoulder, a hand passed a crisp white card. Mike took it, turning to see the man's eyes gleaming in the half light. It never really got dark in the city, but the street lights didn't seem to penetrate that far along this tunnel. The noise of the street also seemed to fade into the background. "You can call me any time."

"Is that what that was? You looking for me?" Mike tried to adopt a position of ease, leaning back against the chafing brick. He realised his mistake a moment later when Harvey came close, hands on either side of Mike's narrow shoulders, boxing him in. Mike licked his lips nervously, unable to miss the way Harvey focused on that, eagle intent.

"That was coincidence and my incredible good luck." Harvey seemed to be closer, suddenly, and Mike could feel the heat from his body all the way up and down his skin. Harvey drew closer. "I always know how to make the best out of any opportunity." Harvey was closer again, and this time he didn't stop, kissing Mike. Instead of the expected mash of mouths, Harvey's kiss was gentle, a caress almost, lips dipping in, tongue slipping a taste – nothing more. Then Harvey pulled back.

Mike chased his mouth, caught it. The next kiss lasted longer, spread to their entire bodies – arms, hips, legs, chests all meeting, trying to merge. When Mike stepped back he was panting, chest heaving. "Yeah."

Harvey watched him, arms in a loose embrace around Mike's shoulder. A sudden screech of wheels had them springing apart, Harvey smoothing his tie while Mike pressed his fingers to lips that hadn't been puffy just moments ago.

"You should call me sometime," Harvey suggested, settling his suit jacket on his shoulders, patting his hair flat again. "Sometime soon, I'd suggest." The suggestion had the edge of command colouring it. Mike normally resented that arrogant imperative, but something in him knew he wanted to see Harvey again. With all that promised to entail.

Mike flipped off a slapdash, mocking salute. "Will do." He turned to walk away, resume his reluctant journey home. He turned, just before Harvey was out of sight. "Who do you work for, by the way?" He was expecting to hear perhaps the name of one of Trevor's rivals, the Tiptini family perhaps.

Harvey grinned, settling his hat on his head. "The DA's office." He took in Mike's mixture of awe and fear with nothing more than a mocking tilt of his head. "Be seeing you, Ross."

Mike nodded, watching Harvey disappear into the street. Their next meeting seemed inevitable, one way or another. Mike understood that. He let his fingers curl around the card in his pocket as he headed once more for the subway. The fluttering in his stomach suggested that it might be no bad thing.


End file.
